Things Santana Doesn't Do
by loudmouthgeek
Summary: Santana struggles to come to terms with her sexuality. Deals with Artie/Brit/San drama. Kurttana Friendship Post-Prom Queen, Rated T for sporadic language.
1. Chapter 1

Kurt Hummel, never the world's most patient person, was now at wit's end. Earlier in the day he'd gotten a call from, of all people, Santana Lopez. The call had been short and to the point; she needed to talk to him, could they meet for coffee? Kurt's initial instinct was to turn her down as he was heavy into planning mode for the forthcoming trip to Nationals in New York, but something in her voice told him that she genuinely needed to talk, something he'd never heard in Santana's voice: she was afraid. Santana Lopez didn't do fear.

So Kurt had told her to give him an hour and to meet him at The Lima Bean. They'd arrived more or less at the same time, ordered, picked up, and sat down all in utter silence. When Santana sat, she pressed her knees together, slouched her shoulders, and didn't look up. Santana didn't do silence and closed posture.

Kurt was now actually starting to freak out. He'd quickly gone from curious to concerned to genuinely scared. He couldn't help being struck by the notion that he apparently cared about Queen Bitch, Santana Lopez. After a full five minutes of sitting in silence Kurt finally spoke, "Okay, Santana, you're freaking me out. What's going on?"

For the first time since they arrived, Santana lifted her eyes to meet his. The fear in her voice on the phone earlier was nothing compared to the fear in her eyes now; it wasn't a good look for her. "I…" she started and stopped. Her voice was very soft and very quiet. Santana also doesn't do soft or quiet. Sure, she makes snarky comments under her breath but she always says them loud enough to be heard. Being bitchy is kind of _her thing_.

She dropped her eyes back down, tried to start again, and again the words seemed to get hung up on their way out. She raised her right hand up to her forehead, took a deep breath, and when she looked back up at Kurt, the old Santana was back. "I don't have any dirt on you," she said, smoothly. Kurt gave a puzzled look. "I know a lot of embarrassing things about a lot of people. Blackmail is one of my primary weapons. The only embarrassing think I know about you is the time you tried to butch it up and sang John Mellencamp in glee, and everybody already knows about that."

"Oooookay…" Kurt started to reply.

"I tell you all that, because when I tell you what I came to say, you will be first person I've said this to that I can't manipulate or blackmail into not repeating it, so appreciate the situation." The word she wasn't saying was "trust." Santana Lopez doesn't do trust.

Her soft, quiet voice returned as she continued, "I'm gay."

Kurt busted out laughing. It was an absolutely inappropriate response and he knew it right away. He tried to stop himself but couldn't. From the fear in her voice and her eyes and her posture, Kurt had expected that someone was dead or dying or something much worse. Santana looked like she was ready to tear his head off and wear it as a hat (a look that only she could pull off, he noted), any sign of the fear she had earlier was gone and replaced with abject fury. "I'm sorry," he said, between fits of laughter, "I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't be laughing." He took a breath and managed to calm himself down. He started, "I'm sorry, that was very rude me," he reached a hand across the table to one of her clenched fists, "I've know you're gay for a while…"

"WHAT? Who told you?" Santana interjected, panicked, drawing back from his touch.

"…but thank you for telling me," Kurt said, finishing his previous statement before responding, "No one told me. No one had to tell me."

Still in a panic she asked, "So it's just obvious to everyone that I'm a lesbian?" As she finished the question she was suddenly aware how loudly she'd said it. Her eyes went wide, "Holy shit," she continued much more quietly, "I've never said that out loud before. I'm a lesbian. Kurt, I'm a lesbian."

Kurt smiled at her, sweetly, "Again, things I already know. And, no, it's not obvious to everyone, just to people with fantastic observational skills and access to information about certain events that aren't all public knowledge."

"Events?"

"Last year before Sectionals, Brittany told more or less everyone in glee that you two were having sex. Then there's that thing you guys do when you lock pinkies, which is pretty adorable, I must admit. I was pretty sure about it when you sang "Landslide" together…"

"You were at Dalton, then."

"Ah, but you forget, the biggest gossip at McKinley High also happens to be my best friend in the whole world," Kurt replied.

"Mercedes," Santana rolled her eyes.

It was a bit of a lie by omission on Kurt's part. While Mercedes was there, it had actually been Rachel that brought up their performance and the subsequent emotional moment immediately thereafter in front of the glee club, but Kurt figured bringing her name into the conversation wouldn't be helpful at this point. He was reasonably certain that Mercedes would have said something about it had Rachel not beaten her to it.

"So the whole glee club knows?" Santana asked.

Kurt noticed a decided lack of fear in the question, "I think many of them suspect, but the thing that clinched it for me was your sham of a relationship with Karofsky. That thing that you know about Karofsky that you were presumably blackmailing him with, I know about it, too."

"You catch him checking out Sam's ass, too?" Santana asked with a smile, the first one in a long time.

"You caught him checking out Sam? That is outstanding." Kurt smiled hoping to encourage her to continue doing the same, "No, I found out rather matter-of-factly when he kissed me."

"No. Fucking. Way! He kissed you? Where were you at the time on the dark side of the freaking moon? We were here when I told him I knew, and I seriously thought he was gonna piss himself. I can't believe he actually had the balls to kiss you within ten thousand miles of anyone who might see." They both laughed at this, heartily, followed by an oddly comfortable quiet moment.

"So," Santana broke the silence, "have you talked to anyone about what you know? Mercedes?"

"No."

"Berry?" she asked, with noticeable contempt in the name.

"No."

"Finn?"

"No."

"Blaine?"

"I… may have said something about it to Blaine. I'm sorry," Kurt was suddenly struck by the fact that he seemed concerned about Santana's feelings. Were they actually becoming friends? "He won't out you, I promise."

"Good. I'd hate to have to hang him by his vast collection of striped ties."

"I'm not into outing people, Santana, but you can't live in the closet forever. Have you thought about coming out? Or at the very least coming out to the glee club? It's not like it would be a huge shock to most of them anyway?"

"It's not that simple. First, the glee club may all suspect that me and Brit have sex, but it not just that. I'm…" Santana paused long enough to sigh, "I'm in love with Brittany."

Kurt smiled and reached out for Santana's hand again. "Of course you're in love with her. I think everyone that knows her is, at least a little bit. Hell, I'm as gay as they come and I'm a tiny bit in love with her." Kurt almost immediately regretted saying that thinking that Santana might take it as him undermining her feelings for Brittany.

Just a second later he realized he had nothing to be concerned about. A smile, bright as the sun, quickly spread across Santana's face. "She does have that effect on people. I love her so much."

"Does she know that?"

"I told her I loved her… that I do love her. I don't think I expressed how much. She has been so good to me through all of this and I've treated her like crap. I really need to fix things with her," Santana said looking down at her lap.

"Do you know why everyone loves Brittany?"

"Because she's bubbly and cheerful and she says silly things that are so endearing?" she responded, not looking up.

"No. That's why you love Brittany. Everyone loves Brittany because she's the most honest and genuine person in the world. Everything she says, she means, even the silly things about her cat reading her diary and dolphins being gay sharks. She has no pretext to her. You always know where you stand with Brittany. I go on this Rachel Berry-esque diatribe because I can tell you that Brittany will never be happy living in the closet. She's not going to leave Artie, who she can love freely and openly, for you whom she'll have to keep a secret. You want to fix things with Brittany? You want to be with Brittany? Then you're going to have to fix things with yourself, first. Which brings us back around to have you thought about coming out? The glee club will accept you. The two people I expected to have the most issues from, the good Christian girls, Mercedes and Quinn, have been the most accepting and supportive people in the school. I know you hate her, but Rachel has been amazing to me this year. As you've no doubt often heard, she has two gay dads. She may still hate you, personally, but she'll be accepting of you are….and you've never let anyone go on this long without interruption before. Are you okay?"

Santana looked up at Kurt with tears in her eyes, actual, honest to God tears. Kurt had seen Santana choked up, on the verge of tears on very rare occasions in the past but he'd never seen her actually cry before. Santana Lopez doesn't cry.

"I can't. I can't open up to people. It's just not who I am. It's not who I was raised to be."

"You're being open with me."

"And it took everything I've got to tell you. Oh and it was a waste of effort because you already knew," she said, sounding more angry at herself than at him.

"It wasn't a waste. Believe it or not you've done exactly the right thing. You've come out to people who will support you through this. And I will. I haven't said that yet, so I should. I'm here for you. I'm not going to out you or force you out of the closet but I will keep nudging you towards the door."

"Thanks. For the support, I mean. The nudging, I don't know," she smiled slightly.

"You're welcome. I have an idea. There's a PFLAG meeting tomorrow night. You should come. You don't have to come out, yet; you could just be there as the head of The Bully Whips. Listen to people, talk to people if you feel up to it. Just come see that there are people that support you, us."

"You know I only started The Bully Whips to get voted Prom Queen, right? It wasn't some huge altruistic thing."

Kurt nodded, "You know the funny thing about doing the right thing for the wrong reason, Santana? At the end of the day you've still done the right thing. I haven't been pushed into a locker or threatened or slushied once since I came back to McKinley, in fact, there have been no reported cases of any bullying since you and Karofsky started laying down the law, and, yes, part of that is because you and Karofsky were doing more than your fair share of the bullying yourselves," Santana winced at this, for all her bravado, she seemed genuinely remorseful about her bullying ways, "But you've stopped, and you've caused everyone else to stop, too. Whatever selfish reason you may have had for doing it, you've still made McKinley a safer place. That's why I came here today." Kurt then said something he never thought he'd hear himself say to her, "I owe you."

Santana sat dumbfounded at this. Yet another thing Kurt had never seen in her. Santana Lopez doesn't do speechless.

"Will you come to PFLAG?" he asked. She didn't answer, just nodded her head slightly. "Fantastic. It starts at 6 in the auditorium tomorrow night."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Set post-Prom Queen, the only current conflict with the main storyline is that I wrote Holly Holiday out of the "Landslide" performance. I'm not a fan of her character in general and really don't felt she was necessary for that scene. **

**Thank to all those that commented on the first chapter, please enjoy now Chapter 2…**

"Kurt, honey, who are you looking for?" Carole asked.

"My friend, Santana, is supposed to be here." That felt weird for Kurt to say, referring to Santana as his friend. In fact, he was hoping that the term was still applicable after the school day they'd had. Santana had been in Turbo Bitch mode all day, insulting and pissing off everyone she could, culminating in a trip to Principal Figgins' office. He later found out that she had claimed PMS to the principal and he had more or less let it go at that.

Kurt had spoken to her briefly after glee club. She confirmed that she was still planning to be at the meeting tonight. He was hoping that Santana dialing her bitchiness up to eleven today was just blowback against her having her defenses down for so long last night, rather than a change of heart.

A few more minutes of anxious waiting were relieved went Santana finally appeared wearing black pants, a form-fitting, white Cee Lo t-shirt, and dark gray suede, high heeled boots. The girl could definitely dress herself, Kurt thought.

They met just inside the doorway. Santana was wearing regret on her face. "Hey," she said. She dropped her gaze and shook her head slightly and said, "About today, I'm…" The word she couldn't say was "sorry." Santana Lopez doesn't do sorry.

As soon as she paused, Kurt shrugged and said, "You're here, now. Baby steps." Santana smiled slightly. "Come on, we're sitting up here." Kurt gestured ahead of him; Santana took two steps forward before spinning on her heel to stare back at Kurt.

"Mr. Schuester's here!" she said quietly, but emphatically through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, sorry about that, I managed to convince Finn to stay home and work on his homework tonight, and invited you on a night I was pretty sure Rachel wouldn't be here, but Mr. Shue pretty much runs these meetings when the Berrys aren't here. Couldn't really get rid of him on short notice. Just come and sit by me and Mom and Blaine. You're just here as the head of The Bully Whips, nothing remotely suspicious about that."

Santana chuckled slightly and smiled. "What's so funny?" Kurt asked.

"'Mom,'" she replied. Kurt withheld his response because they had arrived at their seats

Kurt made introductions, "Mom, you remember Santana from the wedding. Santana, you remember my mom. She was the one in the fabulous dress."

Carole responded first, reaching out and grabbing Santana's offered hand with both hands, "Of course, I do. Thank you, so much for being here. It means so much to me for you to come and support my son."

Santana chuckled and smiled again, somewhat in spite of herself. Kurt said, "Santana seems to think there's something funny about our blended family."

"Is that so?" Carole asked.

"No," Santana responded, "My parents got divorced when I was nine. My dad got re-married less than a year later, and my step-mother sometimes refuses to even call me by my name to this day. You guys got married six months ago, and you're 'Mom' and he's 'your son.' It's not funny, it's awesome."

"Well," said Carole, "aren't you just so sweet."

"Very sweet," Blaine agreed aloud, and then whispered to Kurt, "What was in that coffee?"

"Be nice," he whispered back, "she's letting her guard down, don't cause her to put it back up."

"What are you two whispering about?" asked Carole.

"Nothing you want to hear," Kurt deflected, "Blaine, will you sit next to Mom, so I can sit between you and Santana?"

"Sounds like a plan."

They all took their seats just as Mr. Schuester was getting up to start the meeting. "Thank you all for coming. For those of you who don't know, my name is Will Schuester and I teach Spanish and coach the New Directions glee club at McKinley. Hiram and Leroy Berry couldn't be here tonight. Their daughter Rachel is participating in a dance competition this evening. Break a leg Rachel…"

As Mr. Schuester spoke, Blaine slipped a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket along with a pen. He quickly jotted down a note and held in it Santana's direction. Kurt saw and directed Santana's attention to it. It said, "Sorry if you weren't ready for me to know." Santana looked up at him and gave a small shrug, as if to say, "What can you do?" Kurt was impressed by her seeming nonchalance, although something in her eyes told him she wasn't necessarily 100% okay with it. Even faking unaffectedness was more than she'd been able to do just yesterday. Blaine wrote again. This time it said, "My lips are sealed." He held the note with one hand and threw up the Boy Scout Salute with the other. Santana barely stifled her laughter at the complete dorkiness of him. Santana smiled and thanked him in sign language, hoping he'd understand. He didn't, but Kurt did and translated quietly.

The group was stirred from their mostly silent conversation when Mr. Schuester mentioned The Bully Whips. "I see we have with us tonight Miss Santana Lopez, the driving force behind The Bully Whips, McKinley's wildly successful Anti-Bullying Club. I wonder if she would be willing to come up and share a few words about bullying."

As the small crowd began to clap, Santana whipped her head to face Kurt. "You said, I could just sit here and listen. You didn't say anything about making a speech," she said through clenched teeth.

"I didn't know. It wasn't my idea," Kurt fired back, "Just go do it. Doesn't have to be anything huge. People are staring."

"Awww, is that what he said?" Santana replied with a sharp sarcastic tone, motioning towards Blaine. She made her way, quickly to the stage making sure to give Mr. Schuester a withering stare as she approached the microphone. "Thanks for putting me on the spot, Mr. Shue," she said into the mic, again sarcastically, "you're the best."

Santana turned to address the audience, "I hope you'll bear with me. I was not the least bit prepared for this. I, uh… I am Santana Lopez. I am a junior at McKinley, and as Mr. Shue said, I am the creator and head of The Bully Whips, McKinley's Anti-Bullying Club. I, um…" she scanned the crowd until she locked eyes with Kurt. She took a deep breath and began again. "I feel like I should have statistics and charts and horror stories about bullying to really bring the issue to light; I don't. The only story I really have is the story of why I started The Bully Whips. I was on the Internet one day and I came across this article about school bullying. I don't even remember how I got to the page, but I remember it was about a kid in Connecticut, 10 years old who killed himself because he was harassed and bullied every day." She caught Mr. Schuester's eye. "Then I read another article and another, and then I went in the bathroom…" Kurt had thought she was making something up, after all, she'd already told him that she started the club to be voted Prom Queen, but he could see Santana's eyelids fluttering and her bottom lip started to tremble. This was legit; the Prom Queen thing was a smokescreen. Kurt was certain of it. After just a couple of seconds Santana continued, "I went in the bathroom, and I threw up." She looked back to Kurt with what looked to him like pleading in her eyes. He couldn't be sure what she was pleading for. Santana doesn't do pleading. "I threw up because in that moment, I knew. I knew I was one of those kids." Kurt's eyes went wide, was she coming out here on stage? Turns out she was coming out, but not as a lesbian just yet. "I was a bully. I didn't bully gay kids for being gay, but that didn't… doesn't change the fact that I was a bully." Santana looked like she was on the verge of tears. "And then I thought about my friend Kurt," she gestured in his direction and suddenly the weirdness of him saying that Santana was his friend was nothing compared the weirdness of Santana saying that Kurt was her friend. "Kurt Hummel, great guy, smartest kid I know, amazingly talented singer, was bullied out of this school. I decided someone had to stop it, and who better to fight bullies than a newly reformed bully? I knew all their tricks and all their targets." She locked eyes with Kurt again. "I can't ever undo the hurt I caused. My history of bullying is something I'm going to have to live with, but I can try to make sure it doesn't happen again." Now he knew the pleading in her eyes was for forgiveness. Kurt was certain in that moment that Santana had just apologized to him… in her own way, of course. Santana Lopez doesn't do sorry.

When Santana backed away from the microphone, the crowd gave her a big ovation. She didn't wait for it or bask in it. She just walked very quickly past Mr. Schuester and back to her seat, sat down and forced her hand into Kurt's. Carole got up to come sit on the other side of Santana and gave her a very firm hug which Santana accepted. After his mother let her go, Kurt said, "I'd be interested to hear what you had to say on the subject if you'd had time to prepare."

She laid her head on his shoulder and responded, "Santana Lopez doesn't do anything half-assed."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: This Chapter and Chapter Two were written together as one, but it was kind of long so I spilt them up.**

Later, after a couple other speakers gave their presentations, attendees were mingling, which basically meant talking, drinking crappy coffee, and eating even worse donuts. Santana mostly stuck with The Hummels and Blaine.

"So where did the sign language come from?" Blaine asked, "If you don't mind my asking?"

"Oh, no, that's fine," she said. "Do you remember TLC?"

"The band or The Learning Channel?"

She smiled, "The band. When I was a little girl I was _obsessed_ with them. Their music, their look, everything, so when I saw the 'Unpretty' video where Left-Eye signed along with the words, I asked my mom what she was doing and she explained about sign language. After that I wouldn't take no for an answer, I had to learn sign language. I hadn't used it in years until Berry and Quinn sang 'Unpretty' in glee a couple weeks ago. Without even realizing it, I started signing along with them. How do you know it Kurt?"

"Haverbrook School for the Deaf, although I mostly only know the alphabet, hello, goodbye, yes, no, please and thank you… and of course, 'You complete me,'" Kurt replied.

Mr. Schuester came up to them, "Hey, I don't mean to bust up the party, but I was wondering if I could have just a couple moments of your time, Santana?"

"Um, sure, can you give me just one minute?"

Mr. Shue said, "Sure," and turned to walk away.

Santana stopped him to add, "Actually, Mr. Shue, there's something I need to talk to you about too. It's kinda private. Can we maybe meet backstage?"

"Sure, whatever you need. Is everything okay?" he asked, concern on his face.

She shook off the look and said, "I'll just be a minute. I promise."

He nodded and left. Santana turned immediately to Kurt and said, "I need you to come with me."

"Hey, you're the one that got all bitchy at him in glee today. Not me. I don't need to hear you get yelled at. Don't drag me into this," Kurt replied.

Since Carole was still standing with earshot, Santana couldn't be sure who would hear if she said it aloud, she quickly signed out in letters, "Telling Shue."

Kurt responded out loud, "Now?"

Santana nodded her head slightly and continued signing, "Need you."

"I'll be right back," Kurt announced in general. They linked arms and made their way back stage and very quickly found Mr. Schuester waiting on them.

"A Bully Whip is ever vigilant, huh?" Mr. Schuester said making one of his lame jokes, "I think Kurt will be fine on his own here tonight, Santana."

"He's not here for that," she said. "What did you need to see me about? Whatever it is, you can say it to Kurt."

"Okay, first off, I wanted to thank you for coming out tonight," Santana's grip on Kurt's arm tightened swiftly at those words, "and supporting Kurt like this. I also wanted to congratulate you on the success of The Bully Whips, but I needed to talk about what you said out on stage tonight. You know I hate trafficking in rumors, but I've heard a lot of them about you starting The Bully Whips as a ploy to win Prom Queen. Now I want to believe you, Santana…"

Santana lowered her gaze and interjected, "But I've given you plenty of reasons not to. I know."

Kurt saw that Santana looked crestfallen. She'd planned on coming out to Mr. Schuester and he was questioning her motives. He felt he had to intervene, "Mr. Shue, if I may. Santana and I have spent a great deal of time together these past couple of weeks and I, for one, believe this change in attitude to be completely genuine."

"Thanks, Kurt," Mr. Schuester said.

"Yeah, thanks, Kurt," Santana echoed. "You've been so good to me, so much better than I ever deserved. That's why you deserve to know the truth."

"Don't do this, Santana," Kurt replied, "Don't retreat into yourself. Every word you said up there tonight was true. I could see it in your face."

"I'm not retreating. It was true, it just wasn't the whole truth," she said to Kurt. She then looked at Mr. Schuester, "Mr. Shuester, the truth is that both stories are true. I did read the articles and I did throw up in self-disgust, but I didn't do it two weeks ago or even two months ago. I read those articles in January, right after Christmas Break. I didn't form The Bully Whips until I'd decided to run for Prom Queen, because apparently even that level of self-hatred isn't enough to make horrible bitch Santana Lopez spring into action until there's something it for me." Everyone was quiet, Santana trying to compose herself, Mr. Schuester and Kurt waiting to see if Santana was going to continue. "It's been pointed out to me by one very patient man," she squeezed Kurt's hand at this, "that sort of in spite of myself and my selfishness, I've managed to create something really good, that I've changed this place for the better. Tonight, I just didn't want to associate my self-centered bullshit with the only good thing I've ever done in my life, because I want… I need this club to survive me. I'm only at McKinley for another year, Mr. Shue, but Mercedes has a little brother, Brittany has a little sister, Sam has one of each, and they all have to go to this school, eventually. None of them deserve to deal with what we did to Kurt."

Kurt, near tears, squeezed her hand and said, "Thank you, Santana."

"I should have told you sooner."

"Baby steps."

"Yes, thank you, Santana" echoed Mr. Schuester, "What you've said tonight, both out on stage and back here is incredibly brave of you."

Santana squeezed Kurt's hand hard, Kurt squeezed back. "You want brave, Mr. Shue," Santana said, "You've got it. The truth is I'm not here tonight supporting Kurt; he's here tonight supporting me. I'm a…" The word hung up again.

"Take your time," Kurt said, encouragingly.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Opened her eyes, now suddenly calm, looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Mr. Schue, I'm a lesbian," her calm waivered but she regained it quickly, "I am a lesbian and I am in love with Brittany Susan Pierce," this second declaration was less directed at Mr. Schuester and more to the universe in general. She followed that with a giant sigh and then a very faint, seemingly involuntary, "Oh my god," and then her calm was destroyed. In its place came tears as the strength in her knees gave out and she collapsed to the floor.

Twenty four hours ago, Kurt had never seen Santana shed a single tear and now she was openly weeping. He sat down beside her, put an arm around her shoulders. He could see the relief that had washed over her. Kurt said, "The weight of the world, huh?"

"Oh my god, Kurt, how did I ever bear that by myself?"

"You bore it," Mr. Schuester interjected, "because you are one of the strongest people I've ever known, Santana. I very proud of you for being honest with yourself about who you are and I'm humbled that you trust me with this, I'll do anything I can to help you through the coming out process."

Santana struggled back to her feet with an assist from Kurt, ran to Mr. Schuester, and threw her arms around him in a very Brittany-like hug. "Thank you, Mr. Shue. I really needed to do that. It's going to be such a long time before I'm going to be able to come out to my parents, but you have horrible fashion sense and like old music like my dad, so you don't know how much you helped."

"Sorry, I didn't warn you, Mr. Shue" Kurt said, "Bitchy Santana tends to rear her head back out when she's had her defenses down for too long."

Mr. Schuester just smiled and said, "No worries."

"Good," Santana said, still glommed onto Mr. Schuester's chest, "because I also need your help, both of you guys' help with my plan to come out to the glee club and try to set things right with Brittany."

"What did you have in mind?" asked Mr. Schuester.

She disengaged the hug, "I need something emotional and, like, big, y'know? That I can sing more or less to Britt to express my regrets at doing her so wrong," The words she wasn't saying were "sorry" and "apology." Santana Lopez doesn't do apologies; Santana Lopez doesn't do sorry. "But also so that the club will know that I'm in love with Brittany, so they'll know that I'm a lesbian," For the first time, the word had come with no hesitation, no trepidation, and no fear, Kurt knew that his friend had finally, fully embraced who she was. He was silently very proud of her.

"I think I know the song for you, Santana," Mr. Schuester volunteered almost immediately. "It's something I was planning on suggesting you try anyway, and it's very appropriate to the situation. A couple of catches, one is that it's going to need a mountain of raw emotion, but if you can access what you just went through, that should be no problem. The other catch is that, vocally, it's a step beyond anything I've heard you do. You're going to have to push yourself."

One Smartphone YouTube video later, and Santana was bug-eyed and bewildered. "You think I can do that?"

"I think if you rehearse and rehearse and rehearse and really throw yourself into it wholeheartedly, then this is well within the realm of possibility," Mr. Schuester replied.

"You've got a hell of a lot more confidence in me than I do, Mr. Shue."

"Look how hard you and Mercedes worked on 'River Deep/Mountain High' and that was just for a free trip to Breadstix. This is for the girl you love, right? What wouldn't you do for her?"

"You know, you have a way of motivating people, Mr. Shue. If this whole rock star lifestyle you live doesn't work out, you might give teaching a shot," Santana replied, sticking her tongue out at him. They both chuckled.

"So you're doing the song?" Kurt asked.

"Yes, I'm doing the song."

"Outstanding, then I'd like to volunteer my marginally-above-average piano skills to the performance."

"Thanks, Kurt."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

Four days of endless rehearsals, Santana's almost constant presence at the Hummell/Hudson household and relentless determination to get the whole performance down, had led to this, Monday afternoon, after school, the glee club slowly filing into the auditorium. Over the weekend, Santana and Kurt had talked and decided that certain members should be told, personally, before the performance.

"Finn's finishing setting up his drums," Kurt informed Santana. Finn started sitting in on rehearsals around Day Two. They hadn't fully explained the details of the performance to him, mostly because he hadn't asked. "Sam's on his way in, now."

"Thank you. Give us about five minutes and then have Mr. Shue bring Artie in…. please."

"I can stay with you if you want."

"I've got to stand on my own two lesbian feet eventually. I can't keep leaning my rainbow crutch forever. Thank you, though."

"Anytime."

"Hey, Kurt," Sam said on his way in and Kurt's way out. Kurt walked out of the room and stopped just out of sight. It's not that he doubted Santana's ability to handle herself; it's just that he wanted to hear what was said. If there was going to be drama, he wanted to be able to gossip about it accurately.

"What do you want Santana?" Sam asked. It was more or less the reaction Santana had been expecting, although considering their history a slushie facial wouldn't have been that much of an overreaction.

"Have a seat," Santana offered.

"I'd rather stand."

"Okay. I wanted to talk to you because I'm putting my life in order today, Sam."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that in about ten minutes, I'm going to walk out on that stage and I'm going to come out of the closet to the glee club…"

"You're gonna do what?" Sam looked completely dumbfounded; he slowly took the previously offered seat opposite Santana.

"I'm gay, Sam, always have been. It's time for me to tell everyone. All things considered, I felt like you had a right to hear it from me first. I had absolutely no right to interfere in your relationship with Quinn. I knew what I was, who I was then, and I knew what I was doing when I seduced you into breaking up with her."

"You didn't seduce me. I…"

"Dude, you were totally seduced."

"Fine, maybe I was, but she was still cheating on me with Finn."

"Undeniable, but if I hadn't been there singing my siren song, maybe you two would have worked it out. When her and Frankenteen split you should see where you stand with her."

"You really think they're gonna split?"

"Pffft, please. Both of them are trying to recapture something that is two years gone. Both of them are trying to pretend that they are remotely the same people they were two years ago, as though Baby-gate never happened, as though Baby Daddy-gate never happened, as though Finchel never happened. I give the whole disaster another week before it all blows up, two at the most."

"I guess, we'll see."

There was a very long moment of silence and then Santana broke it, "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"'Trouty Mouth' was so far out of line, I don't even know where to start. I could try to explain my mindset at the time, but I don't really know that it would help."

"It might," he said, very tight lipped. Apparently, "Trouty Mouth" was a bigger sore spot than Quinn.

"Okay, over the last couple of years, my ability to suppress my feelings for Brittany…"

"You have feelings for Brittany?"

"I skipped that part, didn't I? Yeah, I do. I'm very in love with her. My ability to suppress those feelings have ebbed and flowed over the years, but 'Landslide' was pretty much the point of no return for me. After that, I couldn't deny it anymore."

"Wait, you two singing 'Landslide' together was about you two being in love? I have got to have a conversation with Artie."

"Not before I do, now do you want to hear this or do you want to keep interrupting?"

"I think I see the train of thought," Sam replied. "You sing 'Trouty Mouth' because you want me to break up with you so that Brittany will comfort you and realize that you're the one she should be with. Didn't exactly work out did it?" he asked with a smirk.

"No, obviously, not. Why are you not more upset about this?"

"Well, I hate to rain the parade of the great Santana Lopez, but I really wasn't all that into you. I mean you're hot and all, you were good for the reputation, and my being with you pissed Quinn of royally, but you're kind of a raging bitch."

"That's Ms Raging Bitch to you, Bieber," Santana said with a smile, Sam smiled as well. "I guess I deserve that. So what do you say, Sammy boy, can we put the past behind us? Start over?" Santana Lopez doesn't do apologies.

He sighed and looked at the floor. "I guess I get that you were going through something. Something pretty huge. I guess, if I can forgive Quinn, I can forgive you too."

"Thanks, Sam. That means a lot. Seriously."

"So this song, does it have a guitar part?"

Santana sat absolutely flabbergasted and she wasn't the only one. Kurt, still watching from the doorway, could believe neither his eyes, nor his ears.

"It does," Santana responded, at length.

"Then, I'm in," Sam responded quickly.

"Oh, damn it, Sam you're gonna make me cry and ruin my makeup." Santana smiled brightly and stood, Sam followed suit. She wrapped both arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "You're a good egg, Sam Evans. Way better than me. Way better than I deserve."

"So much better than you deserve," he responded playfully, "I better go tune up."

They released the hug, "Play pretty, lesbro," Santana teased, and then he left to get ready.

"What do you want, Santana?" Artie asked in a near perfect echo of Sam just minutes earlier.

Santana suppressed a smile at this and hoped that this conversation would go even half as well as the previous. "I'm in love with Brittany."

"You called me back here to tell me something I already know? Thanks, I'll be out front."

"Wait. Artie, okay. Here's something you don't know, then. I about two minutes from walking out on that stage and coming out to the glee club."

Artie studied her face for a minute, "What's your angle here Santana? I don't get it."

"My angle is to be honest with all of my friends about who and what I am. Friends that I have no right to expect will ever include you. I have tried, at every turn, to subvert your relationship with Brittany from the first time you two hooked up to agreeing to go to Prom with her, before I chickened out. I have manipulated Brittany into fooling around on you while you guys were together. I convinced her that what we were doing wasn't cheating, when, by any reasonable definition of the word, it was. And please don't be mad at Brittany about that; the only thing she truly did wrong was trust someone as untrustworthy as me. I manipulated her into it. I knew what I was doing, when I did it, I knew I could do it before I started, and I knew it wasn't right when I was doing it. I did it anyway. So please blame me and not her. She loves you so much."

Artie didn't say anything, just watched as she went on. "After today, I'm going to be done with all that, I swear."

"After today?"

"After today," she confirmed. "Today, I'm going to make one giant showy declaration of affection, coming out to the glee club and doing my damnedest to do right by Brittany and try to make up for all the shit I've put her through. After all that, if she picks you, then I'll shake your hand, call you the better man, and back off, because ultimately what Brittany wants is what's most important to me."

"And if I say no?"

"Wasn't asking your permission, Artie. I just thought I owed it to you to give you the heads up."

"Good answer," Artie responded.

"Ah, well played, Artie. Well played."

"Santana, I'm not wild about having to compete with you for Brittany's affections, but I've been doing it since day one so this doesn't really change anything, and I think Brittany and I are stronger than ever. I also think in a side-by-side comparison the guy who's only ever tried to make Brittany happy will beat the girl who has only ever tried to make herself happy. I try to make her life magical, you make her life miserable. If you need to sing a song to make peace with the situation, more power to you. Just don't get your hopes up."

Santana walked out onto the stage, a quick scan of the audience showed her all the other members of New Directions, aside from the three on stage with her: Puck and Lauren, Mike and Tina, Quinn and Mercedes, Rachel sat with Blaine and Burt and Carole Hummel. Kurt must have asked them to come. Santana really and genuinely didn't care how many people were here. She wanted to tell the group about her, sure, but as far as Santana was concerned this performance was for an audience of one, the guest of honor, Brittany was sitting next to Artie a row in front of Mr. Schuester.

Santana took the microphone off the stand and walked to the edge of the stage directly in front of Brittany and said, "Brittany, this song is all for you and all about you." At this, Brittany's face lit up like a Christmas tree. Santana lowered the microphone and said, "Count it down, Finn."

Finn counted down from four. When he hit "one" Kurt came in with the piano. Four bars later Sam and Finn joined in and the song was under way. Santana maintained a dominant posture, commanding the stage, fiercely.

"_Hold me closer one more time,__  
><em>_Say that you love me in your last goodbye,__  
><em>_Please forgive me for my sins, _(Santana made sure to lock eyes with Brittany at this line)_  
><em>_Yes, I swam dirty waters,__  
><em>_But you pushed me in,__  
><em>_I've seen your face under every sky,__  
><em>_Over every border and on every line,__  
><em>_You know my heart more than I do,__  
><em>_We were the greatest, me and you,___

_But we had time against us,__  
><em>_And miles between us,__  
><em>_The heavens cried,__  
><em>_I know I left you speechless,__  
><em>_But now the sky has cleared and it's blue,__  
><em>_And I see my future in you, _(She gestures at Brit with an open hand)__

_I'll be waiting for you when you're ready to love me again,__  
><em>_I put my hands up,__  
><em>_I'll do everything different,__  
><em>_I'll be better to you,__  
><em>_I'll be waiting for you when you're ready to love me again,__  
><em>_I put my hands up,__  
><em>_I'll be somebody different,__  
><em>_I'll be better to you,___

_Let me stay here for just one more night,__  
><em>_Build your world around me,__  
><em>_And pull me to the light,__  
><em>_So I can tell you that I was wrong,__  
><em>_I was a child then, but now I'm willing to learn,___

_But we had time against us,__  
><em>_And miles between us,__  
><em>_The heavens cried,__  
><em>_I know I left you speechless,__  
><em>_But now the sky has cleared and it's blue,__  
><em>_And I see my future in you,___

_I'll be waiting for you when you're ready to love me again,__  
><em>_I put my hands up,__  
><em>_I'll do everything different,__  
><em>_I'll be better to you,__  
><em>_I'll be waiting for you when you're ready to love me again,__  
><em>_I put my hands up,__  
><em>_I'll be somebody different,__  
><em>_I'll be better to you,___

_Time against us,__  
><em>_Miles between us,__  
><em>_Heavens cried,__  
><em>_I know I left you speechless,__  
><em>_Time against us,__  
><em>_Miles between us,__  
><em>_Heavens cried,__  
><em>_I know I left you speechless,__  
><em>_I know I left you speechless,__  
><em>_I'll be waiting,___

_I'll be waiting for you when you're ready to love me again,__  
><em>_I put my hands up,__  
><em>_I'll do everything different,__  
><em>_I'll be better to you,__  
><em>_I'll be waiting for you when you're ready to love me again,__  
><em>_I put my hands up, _(Santana raised her hand and closed her eyes for the last two lines.)_  
><em>_I'll be somebody different, __  
><em>_I'll be better to you._

With her eyes still shut, Santana didn't see Brittany ascend to the stage, bypassing the stairs and just vaulting the orchestra pit with the grace of a cat. Brittany flung her arms around Santana and glommed onto her. Santana felt so warm and so loved, like she was wrapped in a blanket made of pure joy. If she had died in that moment, she would have died the happiest death ever. "Brit, I love you, so much."

"I love you," Brittany responded. "I am so, so proud of you right."

"Brittany, honey, I've been awful to you. I am _so_ sorry. I owe you so many apologies."

"All right," Brit said, "but later, okay? Right now I just want to be happy for you."

"Deal," said Santana with tears of joy running down her face.

After this exchange, Santana suddenly became aware that the rest of the world had, in fact, _not _ceased to exist. She had a vague recollection of fifteen people cheering and clapping, those people now made their way onto the stage.

"Where's Kurt?" Santana asked whipping her head back and forth, looking for him. "Kurt," she called out.

"I'm right here," he said from behind her. He put his arm around Santana's shoulder and said, "You were amazing."

Santana tried to put an arm around Kurt, but Brittany's persistent hug was still too tight, not that Santana was complaining. "Hey, Brit, honey, we need to hug Kurt, too."

"Okay," she responded quickly, throwing an arm around Kurt's neck and yanking him into the glom. Santana put an arm around Kurt's waist. The three stood without speaking for a minute before Brittany broke the silence, "Not that I mind, but why are we hugging Kurt?"

Santana looked at Kurt and said, "Because I couldn't have done this without him, not the song, not coming out, none of it."

Brittany lifted her head to look at Kurt, she looked very excited. "Kurt, you did it! You fixed Santana! Her lebanese feelings broke her into little pieces and I didn't know how to fix her, but you did it, you totally fixed her. I totally love you forever, now, Kurt."

"I didn't fix her Brittany, I just helped her fix herself," he responded smiling at Santana.

Brittany responded first, "Whatever. I still totally love you forever."

A teary-eyed Santana said, "Yeah, me, too. I totally love you forever, too, Kurt."

All around the three of them there were the rest of the glee club. There were many "Congratulations" and "I'm proud of you's" and even a couple of "You should sing that at nationals." The latter sentiment was, of course, met with protestations from Rachel. Eventually, Kurt asked loudly enough for the group to hear "Is there a next step to your plan? Telling the whole school? The whole world?"

Santana gave a small shrug, "Whatevs. Everyone that matters knows now."

**A/N: The song, for those that don't know is "I'll Be Waiting" by Adele from the album "21". Both the song and the album, as well as Adele herself, are completely amazing. Anyone not already familiar with her should look her up. The song was actually the impetus for writing this story.**

**On another note, this was the original planned end for the story. Santana accepts herself and comes out to her friends. Structurally, that's the end of the story, but now, I'm not so sure.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: A million apologies for the delay in updates. I really, really got stuck on this section. What you are about to read is my fourth pass at writing this chapter. I kept trying to shoehorn Kurt into this scene since that has been the set-up thus far but never could find a way that didn't feel completely forced. Unfortunately for those than commented on my version of Kurt, he pretty much disappears from the story from here on. There's just no organic way to include him.**

**Many thanks to the people who have taken the time out to review. Your kind words mean a lot. Thank you. Now on with the story…**

"San, we really don't have to have this conversation," Brittany said, trying to let her friend off the hook. "You apologized, I accepted. Really, we're okay."

"Look, Brit, I appreciate that you don't hate me, I do, but do you know what I was apologizing for?"

"For standing me up when I was going to ask you to prom? For the whole Karofsky thing?"

"We have to have this conversation," Santana said shaking her head

Twenty four hours removed from coming out the glee club, Santana was back where her journey of self-acceptance had started a week earlier, The Lima Bean. Once again she was here to make some highly personal confessions.

"You don't have to do this," the blonde said.

"Yes," Santana replied, calmly yet forcefully, "I do. You have a right to know what kind of person I am before you go making any decisions." Santana fell silent and looked down at her coffee cup for a long moment, trying to maintain her calm. Crying or getting weepy right now would feel like emotional blackmail to her and that wouldn't be fair to Brittany. "I've lied to you and manipulated you for months now."

"What?" asked Brittany "How? When?"

"Please let me finish, if I don't do this now, I'm going to chicken out, I know I will. I've also undermined your relationship with Artie at every possible turn. I've been trying to sabotage it from day one. When he broke up with you after you guys first hooked up? I caused him to do that. When I told you that us fooling around wasn't cheating, I lied. I was trying to play up his paranoia so that he'd catch us and break up with you," Santana slumped her face down into her hand trying to will herself to remain calm.

Brittany sat aghast. "You lied to me about… I cheated on Artie? San, why would you do that?

The pain and the betrayal in her best friend's voice was too much for her to stand. Her calm broke, tears running down her face Santana replied, "Because I'm a horrible bitch, Brittany. How can you not see that? I use, manipulate, cheat, and lie to everyone, ever. I don't even know why I am this way. I didn't use to be."

"I know why," Brittany said, matter-of-factly.

"Because I'm the worst person alive?"

"No, because you're the best person alive."

"How can you say that, after what I just told you?"

"Because it's true," Brittany responded promptly. The blonde studied her friend who couldn't even meet her eyes anymore. "You really don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what?"

"The third day of third grade? Tommy McMurphy?"

As soon as Santana heard the name, it all came flooding back to her. "He… he called you…" Even now, over a decade later, she didn't want to repeat what the little rutty Irish boy had said.

"He called me 'the dumbest girl in history,'" Brittany finished for her.

"You ran out the classroom crying. You cried all night." The rush of memories still coming hard and fast but Santana was catching up quickly.

"You stayed _with_ me all night. Mami and Papi came to pick you up," Brittany said referring to Santana's parents, "but you _totally_ refused to leave. That was the first time you slept over at my house."

"And the next day at school was the first time I ever punched a boy."

"You totally kicked his ass. They suspended you for two days and the first day you were back, you kicked his ass again. San, you became this person to protect me, but you forgot that. That's why you started being like super mean to me."

Santana sat slack jawed and staring off into space, "How… how did I forget all this?"

Brittany thought very seriously about this question that was intended to rhetorical before responding, "Mostly people don't like to remember things that make them sad or mad."

The blonde's random moments of extreme insightfulness never failed to make Santana smile; even if it was in spite of herself, and this time was no exception. "Brit, you want to know to know something I never told you about that first night?"

"Totally!"

Santana smiled at the girl's excitement at the prospect of knowing even more about the night that seemingly set the standard for their lives up until now. "That night was the first time I ever kissed you."

"You kissed me? I don't remember that."

"You were asleep. It wasn't a sexy kiss. I remember being so tired but so determined to stay awake until you fell asleep and you just _would_ not fall asleep. Every time I thought you were asleep, you'd break out sobbing again and I'd squeeze your hand a little more and will myself to stay awake a little longer. When you finally fell asleep at like midnight or something, I waited staring at the back of your head for a full ten minutes, at least, waiting on you to start crying. After I was certain you were asleep, I leaned over and kissed you," Santana raised her right hand up to touch Brittany on her left temple, "right here."

Brittany brought her left hand up to press Santana's hand to the side of her face. "I miss Sweet Santana." She brought Santana's hand down to the table holding it in her own.

"I knew that night that you were my girl, and that it was on me to keep you safe. I mean, I didn't know anything about sexy feelings and I was only vaguely aware of the concept of romantic love, but I knew that God put me in your life so that little bitches like Tommy McMillian could never touch you again. Isn't that a hell of a thing, being seven years old and being so certain of God's plan for you?"

"And I love you so, so much for doing that. Seriously, I know I never would have made it through school without everything you've done for me, but now you need to figure out who you are by yourself."

"Why? I know I lost sight of my objective in being Santana the Super Bitch and I'm _so_ sorry for that. I won't ever use my evil powers on you again, I swear."

"I totally believe you, San, I do, but what happens a year from now, when I go to Juilliard and you go to NYU or Columbia or wherever? What happens to you when there's no one to be a Super Bitch to, when my super-awesome dancing skills are enough to brush the haters off?"

Santana sat silent. She couldn't begin to refute the logic behind Brittany's questions.

"You're so close to being whole again, San. I'm so proud of everything you've done. You've got just a couple more things left to do, and then we can start to figure out where we fit into each others' lives now."

"I'll do anything, Britts. What else do I have left?"

"Well, I think the next thing you need to do is tell Mami and Papi."

"No, Brit, I can't do that. You know how religious they are. Telling them I'm gay will just hurt them so much…"

"Lying to them hurts them," Brittany interrupted a little uncharacteristically, "and it hurts you, because I know how much you love them." Santana lowered her head, resting it on her upturned left hand. "San, I'm not going to lie to you. The things you've done over the last few months hurt, a lot. The things you've confessed to today, I can't even believe you did. You said you're sorry and I believe you and I forgive you, but it's gonna take time to move past it. Coming out to Mami and Papi isn't going to be something that just makes all my hurt go away, but it's a first little baby step."

Santana gave a small chuckle at the familiar phrase, "That's what Kurt always says, 'Baby steps.' He's so damn smart."

"Totally," Brittany agreed. The two were comfortably silent for a while before Brittany spoke again, "You shared a secret with me so I wanna share one with you, now. I dream about the future kind of a lot."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, like almost every night. I'm totally going to go to Julliard and study dance from the best teachers in the world, I'm gonna dance on Broadway, and then I'm gonna open my own dance school to teach little kids to dance, because kids are _way_ more fun to work with than grown-ups," Brittany finally paused to take a breath before continuing, "The other thing I always dream about is you." Tears of joy rolled down Santana's face at this revelation, she hadn't even realized that she was welling up and she made no move to wipe them away once they came. Brittany continued, "Sometimes we're best friends and sometimes we're girlfriends, but you're always there. That's maybe not exactly what you want to hear, but…"

Santana tightened her grip on Brittany's hand and interrupted, "No, honey, it's perfect. It's exactly what I needed to hear, that I still have a chance, but I've got to earn it. I will earn it; I'll do anything I have to do, starting with talking to Mami and Papi."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Santana's dreaded conversation with her parents. It was all suppose to be done in one part but the story started writing itself and got to be on the rather long side, so I opted to break it up. Hopefully, I can have the second half fixed up and uploaded soon.**

**Thanks to everyone who takes the time to review. It means a lot.**

Santana knew she was lucky when it came to her parents. Despite their divorce, which was at times contentious, Armando and Maria Lopez could always out their personal problems aside for the sake of their daughter. There was never any fighting about custody or alimony. In fact, most people that knew them when they were still married would say that they had a better relationship post-divorce, Santana included. She knew that in the grand scheme of things, she could be a lot worse off. That knowledge didn't make what she was about to do any easier.

Santana sat across from a coffee table from her parents, eyes cast down, and sitting silently, she was trying to figure out how to start this conversation.

"Tana, honey," Armando started, "you asked us to sit and talk with you, but you aren't talking. Do you need one of us to start?"

"How can you start when you don't know what I'm going to say?" Santana asked with a small chuckle until a thought occurred to her. She got serious very quickly, "Do you know what I'm going to tell you?"

"No, angelita, I don't," her father replied

"No," her mother agreed.

"I need to tell you something and…" Santana trailed off, her thoughts jumbling together, "it's…it's not going to be easy for you to hear. I…I've been back and forth on whether or not to share this with you or just to keep it to myself. I thought for a while it was best not to tell you because why burden you guys with the truth when all it's going to do is hurt you, but then, a lot of people already know and if, or more accurately when, you hear it from someone else, it would hurt a lot more, so then I thought I should tell you myself and the idea of actually telling you freaked me out and I wasn't going to do it, but then Brittany convinced me that I owed it to you."

Armando and Maria exchanged a brief smile at the mention of their daughter's best friend's name, a smile that went undetected to Santana since she wasn't looking up. She continued on, "And when I tell you this, I need you to know that I am certain it's true. This is not something I think might be or something that I'm experimenting with. This is a truth about Santana Lopez that I have reached after much work." Santana had built herself up to her moment, she closed her eyes took one deep breath, and then a second, looked up at her parents and finished her speech, "I'm gay."

What came next was not what Santana had expected. Her parents were both fiery individuals, when they were upset at you, they let you know about it. Nothing like that happened. Her parents had only smiles and concern on their faces.

"Why aren't you more surprised?"

Armando and Maria looked at each other. Maria gestured for Armando to go first. "Honey, we're not more surprised because we were expecting this conversation sooner or later, we've talked and prepared ourselves for this conversation."

"But you guys have, like, zero gaydar. How did you know this was coming?"

Armando smiled slightly, "Tana, you know we love Brittany like she was our own, right?"

"Of course."

"Do you know that she calls us every night before she goes to bed?"

Santana smiled at the thought of this, "No, I didn't but I can't say I'm surprised by it."

"For years these calls were just goodnights and well wishes and asking us to pray with her," Armando continued, "but about three months ago she started telling us about a girl friend of hers that was in love with another girl friend of hers and she needed to help them work their stuff out. Brittany, God bless her, is not nearly as subtle as she thinks she is, and "they" and "her" would become "we" and "me" and "us" so it didn't really take that long to figure out that she was talking about you two."

"So, then," Santana left a long pause between words, hesitating to ask the question on her lips for fear breaking the spell that was magically making her very Catholic parents be okay with their only child coming out, "you guys are… okay with this?"

Again her father spoke, "Tana, honey, you know your Mami and I are deep in the church," _And there it was_, Santana thought, _the other shoe drops. Cue the moralizing and the preaching and the judgment_. Armando continued, "For years and years all we've ever heard was the church's stance: that it's wrong, that it's a sin, all that, so there is a voice in my head that is really not okay with it, but I can deal with that." There was a long silence. Santana was certain her father wasn't done with his train of thought. "Hija, you know almost as well as anyone about Papi's troubles with the bottle, right?" Santana nodded silently. "And you know that Papi's been clean for seven years, right?" Again she nodded. "Well, there's still, after seven years, a little voice in my head that says, 'Go ahead and have a drink, Mando. One drink won't be the end of the world.' But that voice is wrong and I know that. Every day I have to remind myself that voice is wrong."

"So my being gay is just another family shame that we just won't ever talk about?" Santana stood up to storm out of the room, but her father was up and around the table to intercept her before she could.

"Angelita, no," he said putting a hand on both of her shoulders, "my _problem_ with you being gay is like my problem with alcohol, it's something I'm going to work on being better about. Sit back down and let me see if I can put it a better way." Santana sat and her father sat next to her. "You know that we value language in this family, right?" Santana nodded, their value on language was the reason Santana was fluent in three languages. "So if I were to say, 'Santana Christina Maria Lopez is my beautiful, intelligent, feisty, strong-willed, short-tempered, often ill-mannered, lesbian daughter," what part of speech would the word 'lesbian' be in that sentence?"

Santana responded quietly, "Adjective."

"Right, one of many and what does an adjective do?"

"Describes a person, place, or thing."

"It describes you, it doesn't define you. Do you think I would love you any less if you weren't beautiful?" Santana once again shook her head, "What about if you weren't intelligent or strong-willed?" Santana shook her head again. "Do you think I would love you any more if you had less of a temper?"

"Maybe," she said sheepishly.

"Not possible. Oh, I might be happier with you. Maybe then you'd stop coming home in Tio Anthony's squad car."

"Armando!" Maria interjected, "this is not the time for that."

"No, Mami, it's okay. Speak your mind, Papi."

"Thank you, I think I will. What's on my mind to speak is this, there are parts of you I like and parts of you I don't like, but I love all of you and I couldn't love you more if I tried. Whether a certain voice in my head will listen or not, you never have to apologize to me for being in love." Santana leaned into her father who wrapped his large arms around her into a crushing bear hug. She always felt safe and warm when he did that.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: So this is kind of short. If I'd known how short it was, I wouldn't have split it from the previous chapter, but what's done is done. For those following, there should be one more chapter after this then I'm going to be moving on to another story. Thanks to everyone who reviews.**

"Mami," Santana turned to look at her mother, "you've been very quiet and frankly that terrifies me." Santana was very much like her mother. Santana's feistiness and strong will come directly from her, so for Maria Lopez to remain so silent and calm for so long was indeed unusual.

"Like your Papi said, we were expecting this conversation at some point, so we had we'd talked about how we would handle it. We decided to take turns speaking our peace. I simply let him go first."

"Yeah, that's not really like you, so now I'm kind of fearing a good news/bad news situation. I mean, if anything you're more Catholic than Papi."

Maria picked her purse off the floor, sat it on the table, reached into it with one hand, and drew out a well-worn piece of paper. As she unfolded it, she said, "Tana, I want you to see this." She slid the piece of paper across the table; Santana picked it up and looked at it. "It's a list of the things I pray about."

As Santana looked over the list, most of the things were the typical things: health and safety for the family, her cousins in Afghanistan making it back alive and in one piece, patience, etc. The item at the bottom of the list caught Santana's attention. It had clearly been added to the list recently and it was punctuated by an exclamation mark. One simple word: Understanding.

"Understanding?" Santana said inquisitively, "You want to understand _me_?"

"Well, yes, honey. I always want to understand you better, but that's not the understanding I'm praying for in this case. What I'm praying for… what I ask God to help me understand every single night is how a relationship like yours with Brittany, a love that makes my daughter a better person, that makes her the person that I want her to be, how can that be wrong?"

Santana just sat dumbfounded. She couldn't believe that she'd gotten it so wrong. She was sure that telling her parents would hurt them. She'd expected preaching from her Papi and tears and denial from her Mami. While she could tell that neither one of them were ready to decorate their houses in rainbow flags and march in Gay Pride Parades, they loved her and respected that this was something that she was sure about. For maybe the first time in her life, Santana Lopez didn't know what to say.

"You think Brittany makes me a better person?" Santana asked, the thought having never really occurred to her.

"Honey," her Mami said, "look at how you are with her: caring and gentle, warm and smiling and happy, my beautiful girl. Then look at how you are with that _pendejo_ Puckerman: angry and mean, fighting and closed-off, staying out all night and being brought home by the police. Think about that, and _you_ tell _me_ if she makes you a better person."

At the thought of this Santana buried her face into her Papi's shoulder and started to sob, "Oh God, Papi, I completely fucked it all up." Armando put his head on the back of his daughter's head, holding her. He opted to let the f-bomb go due to the girl's extreme emotional distress. "I just couldn't deal with my feelings, and I hurt her so much. She's never going to be able to trust me enough for us to be together again."

"You'll get her back," Armando said, "I know it."

"How can you be so sure, Papi?"

"I'm sure because God didn't bring the two of you together just to teach an old fool about acceptance and then have you not end up together. He's just not that cruel."

"What am I suppose to do? How do I get her back? After I promised Artie that I'd stop trying to steal her away from him."

"Maria, did Brittany ever say anything about this Artie kid to you?"

"No," she responded very confidently.

"I haven't heard anything either, but every night for years we hear about you, we pray with her about you. That girl is all about you, Tana. Now, you've treated her badly, you've broken her trust, that's going to take time to heal. You asked what you're supposed to do, the answer is simple: anything and everything. You have to just go out there and be the kind of woman that is worthy of Brittany, _every _day, and it will take as long as it takes, but you will win her back."

"Tana, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Mami."

"How long have you been in love with Brittany?"

"I'm not sure. I came to accept it about three months ago, right before Regionals, but when did I actually fall for her? It's hard to say, we've always been close, and it's just kind of grown slowly. I'm sure I've felt the way I feel now for at least three years. Why?"

Maria answered the question with a question, "Maybe closer to four years?"

"I don't know, Mami, maybe. Why?"

"Did falling in love with Brittany cause you to lose your faith?" Santana didn't answer, she couldn't. Even with only a second to think about it she knew the answer to the question was yes, without a doubt, but to actually verbalize that thought seemed too much like blaming her lost faith on Brittany, and she certainly wouldn't do that. The church was the one with the problem, not her and certainly not Brittany; even Santana's parents had admitted that much.

When nothing was forthcoming, Maria spoke again, "Father Patrick asks about you every week. You know how your Papi and he are; he loves you like you were his own. You should go talk to him, honey."

"What would be the point? I can't make confession, because I won't confess loving Brit as if it were some kind of sin to love. No confession, no communion, and I remain not legit in the church's eyes."

"I say didn't make confession, Tana. I just said go talk to him. You use to love talking to Father Patrick. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for me. Please?"

Santana sighed and said, "Sure, what can it hurt?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own neither Glee nor any part thereof. No money is being made off of this story and is intended only for entertainment purposes; therefore it falls within the parameters of "Fair Use"**

**A/N: Well, here's the conclusion. As I've said elsewhere, I'm not exactly over the moon with this section. I've rewritten it twice in the last two weeks, and I'm no closer to being proud of it, and I'm really out of ideas about how to improve it. I can only hope that you, my loyal readers and reviewers enjoy it more than I do.**

"Hola, Padre." The day after the conversation with her parents Santana walked into Father Patrick McKinnley's office at St. Mary's church. She was almost instantly flooded with memories stretching back to childhood. Santana's Papi and Father Patrick were about as different as two men could be, one a barrel-chested Puerto Rican man with a booming voice who lived the affluent life that his job as cardiothoracic surgeon afforded him, the other an exceedingly tall, lanky Irish priest with a quiet unassuming manor, but they had served in the army together before and during Desert Storm, and were as close as brothers for it.

As Santana looked around the room at the memorabilia adorning the walls and desk and bookcases, she knew that although Father Patrick's first love would always be God and Jesus and all things related to his church, a close second in his heart would be The Boston Red Sox. Nearly twenty years of living in Lima, Ohio may have dulled his once thick Boston accent but it would never dull his love of The Bo Sox. "How's your petition to get the 2004 World Series officially declared a miracle coming?"

Father Patrick smiled as he stood from behind his desk. Santana hadn't called ahead to tell him she was coming, hoping to surprise him, and also to leave herself the option of chickening out without wasting Father Patrick's time. All the same, Father Patrick didn't seem surprised to see her in the least. "Not as well as I had hoped."

"Y'know, some might take that as a sign."

"Did the Sox take being down 3 games to none in the ALCS against the Yankees as a sign? Did they say, 'Oh well, God clearly doesn't want us to win The Series. I guess the Curse continues?'"

Santana chuckled slightly at this, "Shouldn't you as, you know, a priest, maybe reference Moses when citing an example of not giving up?"

Father Patrick gestured for Santana to sit. She did and he did likewise. "Context, Santana. We were talking about The Red Sox so I kept the conversation in that realm. I wouldn't have brought it up out of nowhere."

"I still remember watching the game with you and Papi when they finally won. Pretty sure I've never seen you as happy as you were that day."

"Maybe," Father Patrick said, "but that's only because you don't remember you christening." Santana blushed slightly at this. "It's very good to see you, Tana. So did you come to talk to Tio Patty or Father Patrick?"

"A little of both, but mostly Father Patrick."

"Okay. What's on your mind?"

"For, I don't know the last like three months, I've been going through some soul searching and for the last ten days or so I've been on this path of self-acceptance that has somehow led me here, to you."

"I see. Accepting what, exactly?"

"It seems like everyone I've said this to already knows, or at least most of them have, and you're the most observant and intuitive person I've ever known, so odds are you already know what it is I'm here to talk about, and I've said these words to others without reluctance for several days now, but I'm hesitating in saying them to you and I think it's because it will sound too much like making confession, and I won't do that."

"Very well," Father Patrick began, "How about I say it then? You are deeply in love with your best friend, Brittany, and the conflict between this love and The Catholic Church's position on homosexuality is the reason you stopped coming to mass 3 years, 7 months ago. That about cover it?"

"Yeah, more or less."

"Okay. So you, like everyone that's turned on the news in the last thirty years has heard that The Catholic Church has renounced homosexuality as a sin and has at pretty much every turn tried to deny homosexuals and same-sex couples marriage rights, adoption rights, et cetera, yes?"

"Um, duh? Of course I have."

"Have you ever heard any of that out of this parish?"

"Well…" Santana started and stopped, "no."

"Every wonder why?"

"You're okay with gay people?"

"I'm 'okay' with everyone, Santana. I'm a priest, that's sort of my job, but I don't count loving someone of the same gender as you to be a sin, no."

"Okay, but how? The Bible is pretty clear on the subject."

"Only if you don't look at the context."

"Okay, Sunday school me on the context, Padre."

"The references in The Old Testament are listed in The Mosaic Code. Things also outlawed in this code are married couples having sex during the wife's period, getting tattoos, eating shrimp, lobster, pork, and meat cooked rare, wearing of poly-cotton blends, seeding your lawn with mixed seeds, and getting your hair cut, so clearly The Mosaic Code doesn't mean much to modern day Institutional Christianity."

"Clearly," Santana echoed.

"The 'be fruitful and multiply' argument from Genesis is made kind of invalid due to advancements in modern medicine."

"And the church doesn't condemn childless hetero couples," Santana interjected.

"Excellent point," said Father Patrick, "Also, your family has great respect for the importance of words, so I'll show you this." He grabbed a note pad and a pen, jotted down a word, and handed it to Santana.

"Paiderasste?" she said questioningly.

"It was the standard Greek word for an adult man that was in a monogamous relationship with another adult man at the time The New Testament was written, and it appears nowhere in The Bible or any biblical texts. The words that are used are more properly translated as abusive sexual relationships or promiscuous sexual behavior."

"So if you knew all this and knew about me and Brit, why didn't you say this, like, months ago?"

"You said you've been soul searching for the last three months?"

"Yeah."

"So if I'd come up to you five months ago, at Christmas, and said, 'You know, Santana, it's okay if you're gay.' What would you have said?"

"I'd probably have blown you off. Okay, fine so this was something I had to come to grips with on my own, but it would have been a lot easier if I knew people like you existed. Why don't you say something?" Santana asked.

"You mean, come out as gay-friendly?"

"Yeah, make some noise. Rock the freaking boat a little, Father."

"You know, Santana, I can tell you really wanted to pepper that sentence with profanity and I appreciate your restraint," Father Patrick said with a smile.

"Only for you, Padre, now all due respect but stop dodging the _freaking_ question," Santana replied, punctuating the substituted curse word.

"I will answer the question. Your thought is that I should announce to the world that this parish is gay-friendly, make some headlines. How long do you think those headlines would last? A couple of weeks, maybe? What happens after that? How long after that until I'm defrocked? What do you imagine the man sent here to replace me will be like? Then what happens to the next young person like you that comes seeking my council on reconciling their faith and their sexuality? I hope I'm not bursting your bubble, San, but you aren't the first gay kid to come to me for help and I doubt you'll be the last. What happens to that next kid?"

"He winds up sent to some horrible 'camp' to be 'straightened' out."

"Exactly, so, no dear, I won't be announcing a gay-friendly Catholic parish in an extremely up-tight conservative town like Lima. That is not why God put me here. As much as it pains me to say it, The Catholic Church is not, nor has it ever been a vehicle for social change. I can do good here, but I can't change the world."

"So the world's a shi… crappy place and there's no changing that. That's a surprisingly pessimistic attitude for a priest."

"No, I just said that _I_ can't change the world. In this world there are councilors and there are kings, and I am a councilor."

"And you're saying what, I'm a king?"

"I'm saying it's certainly within you to be one if that's the path you choose."

"What the f… what can I do?"

"What can you do? Santana, when you go to school tomorrow, look around and ask yourself that same question. You bent an entire student body to your will. You decided that no one was going to mess with Brittany, and you made a monster of yourself to make that happen. Now there's 600 plus students in that school who wouldn't dream of doing or saying anything to hurt her. Then you decided it was time to cut out bullying and you bent the entire school to your will again, this time almost overnight, all for the love of one woman. What can you do, Santana? What _can't_ you do when you set your mind to it?"

"Holy freaking crap! Bend the entire world to my will? Challenge freaking accepted, Padre!"

"Yeah, you know, or you could just become an activist of some sort. That is, if your plans for world domination don't work out."

"Way to aim for the middle, Father."

"Well, how's about this, then? Come make confession, come to mass tomorrow night and take communion, then you and God have a long heart-to-heart about whether or not it's a great idea for you to take over the world. Sound good?"

"I don't have to confess Brittany?"

"What have we been talking about for the last hour?"

"Hey, I just want to be absolutely clear."

"Okay, no, you do not have to confess being in love with Brittany. The pre-marital sex, drinking, fighting, smoking, being cruel, being vulgar, being profane, yes, being in love, no."

Without missing a beat Santana replied, "Cool, let's hit it."

Twenty minutes later Santana was done confessing the last four years of her life, and if the last ten days had been lifting the weight of the world off Santana's shoulders, then cleansing her soul made her feel light enough to walk on air. She hadn't felt this free in her whole life.

As Father Patrick was escorting her out she asked, "Is it inappropriate for me to hug you? Wait what am I saying? I don't care." True to her word, she wrapped her arms around Father Patrick's torso, pulling herself tight against the sternum of the tall priest, an embrace that he warmly returned. "Te amo, Tio."

"May The Lord bless you and keep you, my child," he said, adding, "Now take your butt home and stay out of trouble for once."

Once she was out of the building and the door closed behind her, Santana was in her purse rooting for her phone. She retrieved it, hit the speed dial, and waited for an answer.

"San?" Brittany answered.

"Britts, you were totally right. Like, of course you were right, right? When aren't you?"

"I know, totally."

"I did it, babe. I'm whole again," Santana said walking around to the driver's side of the car.

"You talked to Mami and Papi?"

"I did."

"And they totally weren't mad or sad or preachy or anything like you thought they were going to be were they?"

Santana opened the car door, sat down and stuck the key in the ignition. "No, they weren't and I know why. They think you slipped up and accidentally told them about us, but I know you. You were dropping them hints, weren't you?"

The blonde giggled into the phone, "I totally was. I knew they would need some time to figure out how they really feel about you being gay. Papi needed time to get all the angry out and Mami needed to cry and it would make you super sad if they did it in front of you, so I told them enough to let them figure it out for themselves."

"Britts, you're the smartest person ever and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Did you go talk to Father Patrick?"

"What are you a damn psychic? Yes, I talked to Father Patrick."

"What did he say?"

"He said that I'm not going to Hell for being in love with you."

"So you got right with God?"

"I'm right with the whole fucking universe, Brits. The only thing left is you, and I promised Artie I'd stop trying to steal you away from him, but the very next time Wheels fucks up, you have a standing invitation from me. You hear me?"

"San, I'm not with Artie."

"What? But at Prom…"

"We got our mack on at Prom because he sang me a super sweet song, but we haven't gone out again and we haven't had sexy times. I told him I had to figure out what my feelings for you meant before I would get back together with him."

Santana was so excited she nearly dropped the phone. She wasn't really sure what to say. Something inside her was telling her that she hadn't earned Brittany back yet. Brittany interrupted her contemplation, "My parents aren't home yet, if you want to come get our lady kisses on."

It was at this prompting that Santana new the play to make. She quickly responded, "Nope. You get your ass up and make yourself as absolutely smokin fucking hot you can. I'm taking your sexy ass out and courting you in the manor that you deserve."

"Out? Like out on a date?" Brittany asked.

"Out on a date," Santana echoed, affirmatively. "Out and _fucking _proud on a date."


End file.
